Alpha Polis. Worldcity. Layered like an onion, ringed and criss-crossed like a web, greatest city in history, the only city in the world.



Alpha Polis. To be born there in your grandfather’s grandfather’s day was to be born into a hive, a warren. A maze of streets and alleyways, muddy and scarred by wagon ruts. The homeless and jobless would, driven by desperation, threaten any honest man about his lawful business. To be born there in your grandfather’s day was to be born into a hive, surely, but a hive of paved streets, civic planning, and every week the need for more craftsmen and labourers grew.



Alpha Polis. To be born there today is to be born into the greatest city imaginable. The only true city in the world. Empires have been raised that ruled smaller domains than Alpha Polis itself occupies. The vast fields and plains and farmlands of our world feed Alpha Polis. The Worldcity stretches from shore to shore, horizon to horizon, and even those wild and untamed islands of the Great Ring have come to know Alpha Polis, have come to do business with Alpha Polis.



Five generations ago self-termed nobility ruled Alpha Polis, though there was nothing noble about them. Today, the spirit of nobility is embodied by the city itself. The “Technocrats” and “Bourgeoisies,” as the “nobility” derisively named them, have reclaimed and rebuilt the Worldcity for the betterment of all it’s citizens, not for the benefit of some outdated ruling class.



From the Mirelands to the southeast, from the Mountains of Sleep to the northwest, from the East Wood, from the South Wood, and from the Great Northern Plains, all roads meet in Alpha Polis. Every step a traveller takes upon streets paved with fitted stones is a step taken in thanks to Alpha Polis. Ships with two and even three decks explore the archipelago ring and even beyond. People of all races, of all beliefs, and of course of all coins are welcome to come to Alpha Polis, and there to do business and contribute to the glory of the Worldcity.



In it’s heart of hearts, Alpha Polis is a living creature, though it has a life that few understand. Alpha Polis grows as we love her and care for her, and as we care for her, so she cares for us, too. From the spired bastion of Alpha House, foremost of the city’s universities of science and engineering, to the low, sprawling compound of the Cerulean Temple, where the most powerful empaths in the world receive their training, Alpha Polis is strong because her citizenry is strong. From the Chambers of Governance where the legislature guides her to the Fora de Curio where the world comes to do business, Alpha Polis is rich because her citizenry is rich. And from the judges and solicitors to the professors and engineers, from the artisans and craftsmen to the builders and labourers, all owe their strength and their wealth and their station in life to the great Worldcity, Alpha Polis.



But in her heart of hearts… amongst the factories and schools, amidst the parks and salons, around the drafting boards and crystal balls, the citizens of Alpha Polis are all living beings themselves… beings that wish to grow as Alpha Polis grows… and the City is not guided by one common vision, but by many visions, many ambitions…



And it is there, in deserted, gas lit halls, and in darkened cafes with the curtains drawn that the factions among the citizenry, from the Unions to the Technocratic Bourgeoisies, vie for power… as if they could tame or control the great, the eternal Alpha Polis.